


Mystery Merlin

by moonshoespotterr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Fanatical Fam's Holiday Fic Exchange 2020, Fluff, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Podcast: Fanatical Fics and Where to Find Them, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:42:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28193397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonshoespotterr/pseuds/moonshoespotterr
Summary: When Harry returns to Hogwarts after the war, the last thing he expects is to be sending presents to his ex-nemesis. But he supposes he can get into it. It is Christmas after all.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 120
Collections: Fanatical Fam's: Holiday Fic Exchange





	Mystery Merlin

**Author's Note:**

> Created for the Fanatical Fics and Where to Find Them holiday fic exchange 2020

_ Friday 18th December 1998 _

Harry sighed and pushed a leftover sprout around on his plate. All around him, his fellow students were celebrating the start of the Christmas holidays, their excited chatter resounding through the Great Hall as they enjoyed the final feast of the year. 

Even Hermione and Ron seemed full of festive cheer and Harry couldn’t blame them. After the year they’d had, an evening to forget about the endless funerals and trials of that summer seemed welcome. And yet, Harry found his eyes drawn to the still-present scars of dark magic on the ancient stone walls and to the empty spaces in their ranks. No Colin Creevy with his camera and endless smiles. No Lavender Brown giggling with Parvati Patil. No Vincent Crabbe’s hulking form flanking Draco Malfoy.

And  _ there  _ was another of Harry’s problems. Draco Malfoy. Ever since they had returned for their 8th year at Hogwarts, Malfoy had been acting… well...not like himself. And it was starting to piss Harry off. In their shared 8th year common room Malfoy avoided the other students like the plague, only leaving his room for meals and classes, and in the halls Malfoy kept his eyes downcast and ignored insults from the more confident of the younger students as if he couldn’t hear them. 

Harry shoved down the traitorous thought that kept pointing out that the most irritating part of the Slytherin’s recent change in behaviour was that he was also ignoring  _ Harry _ . Well, it was just basic manners, Harry argued with himself. Not that their interactions throughout their time at Hogwarts had been anything approaching polite, but Harry thought that this year might be different. That, finally without the weight of the war hanging over them, they might be able to start again. Merlin knew that Harry couldn’t keep thinking of Malfoy as an evil villain, not after seeing him terrified at the Manor and then stepping forward to testify on Malfoy’s behalf that summer. Everyone deserved a fresh start this year, even Draco Malfoy.

And so, on the first evening in their shared 8th year common room, Harry had sucked up his famous courage and caught Malfoy’s eye, gesturing in a friendly nod. The only sign of life had been a slight raising of the Slytherin’s eyebrows before he dropped his eyes to the floor and scurried off to find his room. Months later, this remained the extent of their interactions and at this point Harry realised that he would probably rather have the old Malfoy back, with his insults and smirks and snark, than this empty shell.

An amplified voice broke through Harry’s concentration - which was probably a good thing because he was pretty sure he’d been staring directly at Malfoy for several minutes - and the chatter of students hushed as hundreds of faces turned towards the Headmistress.

“If I could have your attention for a few moments,” Professor McGonagall began. “I’m sure you are all very excited to be leaving Hogwarts tomorrow and to celebrate Christmas with your loved ones. The Hogwarts Express will be departing at 11am sharp and I expect all of you to be on time,” she shot a warning glance into the audience as if daring them to prove her wrong. “For those remaining at Hogwarts, however, the staff have organised something special that we hope will make your holidays that bit more festive and exciting.”

Harry perked up at this. He, Hermione and Ron were all staying behind at Hogwarts over the break. After spending the previous Christmas hiding in a tent in the middle of nowhere and running from a murderous snake, Harry could think of nothing better than being back in the only place that ever felt like home. Ever loyal, Ron and Hermione had instantly offered to stay with him. Still in mourning for Fred, the rest of the Weasleys had decided that staying at the Burrow would be too painful and had instead decided to visit Charlie in Romania this year, and Hermione’s parents were still gradually recovering from their memory loss in the Spell Damage ward at St Mungo’s. Harry couldn’t help but be relieved to have his two best friends by his side.

I wonder if Malfoy is staying behind too, Harry thought. He couldn’t imagine there would be much festive cheer back at the Manor, not with the atrocities that had occurred there and with Lucius Malfoy locked away in Azkaban.

McGonagall cleared her throat. “Now, all students staying behind will be partaking in a game that we have dubbed Mystery Merlin. The rules are simple. Each student will be given the name of another student remaining at Hogwarts and must give that student secret gifts in the days leading up to Christmas. On the final day, you may choose to reveal yourself to your giftee.”

Excited voices erupted at the Headmistress’s announcement, along with plenty of disappointed shouts from students who were returning home for the holidays and who would be missing out, as well as a few disgruntled murmurs from those less than keen to embrace the Christmas spirit.

“Finally,” McGonagall interrupted with a raised hand, “I expect each of you to act appropriately when giving gifts and remember that Christmas is a time to be thoughtful, generous and kind. You will receive the name of your giftee tomorrow morning and the first gift is expected the day after.”

“Now,” she clapped her hands and the remains of their main course vanished from the long tables, replaced by trays piled high with mince pies, bowls brimming with trifle and platters overflowing with flaming Christmas puddings, “enjoy the rest of the feast.” 

Harry grinned at the Headmistress’s theatrics and helped himself to a plate of treacle tart. 

“Well, I for one think this is a fantastic idea,” Hermione announced approvingly. “It sounds like an excellent way to encourage inter-house unity, don’t you think?”

Harry nodded, his mouth full of sweet pastry, and Ron grunted. “Just so long as I haven’t got to do inter-house uniting with any of the snakes.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Ron. They’re not as bad as you think. I’ve been working with Daphne Greengrass in Ancient Runes for months now and she’s been very pleasant.”

“Doesn’t mean I want to give any of them presents,” Ron countered sulkily. 

Harry tuned out their familiar bickering as he wondered who he would be matched with for Mystery Merlin, excited for something to distract him from the constant reminders of the war and get him into a festive mood.

H/D/H/D

Harry, Hermione and Ron strolled along the path, kicking dead leaves out of their way as they made their way back to Hogwarts. They had gone along to Hogsmeade station to see off Ginny, Neville and Luna who were all going home for the holidays, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief as the crowds disappeared behind them. 

“Oh! Look!” Hermione exclaimed, pointing at a blur of movement heading their way. 

As it came closer, the blur revealed itself to be three, individual envelopes, one addressed to each of them. 

Harry reached out to pluck his envelope from the air. “Maybe it’s our person for Mystery Merlin,” he said, running a finger along the seam and pulling out a single sheet of parchment.

_ Harry Potter, _

_ You are expected to provide your first gift tomorrow (Sunday 20th December), with the final gift being delivered on Christmas Eve. On this day, you will be allowed to reveal your identity to your giftee if you wish. _

_ Your giftee is… _

No way, Harry thought, a nervous flutter in his stomach. His jaw dropped as he read the name at the bottom of his letter.

_ Draco Malfoy _

H/D/H/D

Harry was initially excited when he found out that he was matched with Malfoy. This could finally be Harry’s chance to get through to the Slytherin and break down the passive, emotionless shell he’d built around himself.

That was until Harry realised that he actually had to give Malfoy presents. Had to think of not one, not two, but five gifts that the Slytherin would like for Christmas. The thought had sent Harry into a panic and his mind had gone completely blank. 

Now, sitting in the Great Hall for dinner, Harry gulped nervously. He had waited until the very last second to send his gift and he was sure it was terrible. Not at all the thoughtful gift that McGonagall had encouraged them to send.

At least he wouldn’t have to wonder for long, Harry thought, as owl after owl began swooping into the Great Hall, bearing gifts of all shapes and sizes for their recipients. Harry jumped as an owl dropped a small package on the table in front of him. In his worry about Malfoy, he’d forgotten that someone would be getting gifts for him as well.

Tearing into the brightly patterned paper, Harry grinned. It was a revision planner. He knew he wasn’t supposed to guess who his mysterious gifter was, but this present was so obviously from Hermione that he couldn’t hold in his smile. Especially when she leaned over with feigned ignorance and asked what he’d received. She was a terrible liar.

Looking around at his fellow students excitedly unwrapping gifts, Harry’s gaze landed on Malfoy and he held his breath. Malfoy stared at the gift warily, as if touching it might unleash a deadly curse. As he opened the paper, his expression changed to one of confusion and then mild disappointment as he held up… a quill. Harry had bought Malfoy a quill for Christmas. 

It wasn’t even a fancy quill - no peacock feather adornment, no jewel encrusted handle or enchanted ink - no, this was your standard quill. Harry dropped his face into his hands. Why the hell had he got Malfoy a quill? Sure, he had panicked, but that was no excuse, Harry chastised himself. 

He’d try better next time, he thought determinedly. 

H/D/H/D

Harry had been up all night thinking of the perfect present for Malfoy to make up for the disaster that was his first gift. Waiting anxiously in the Great Hall, he second guessed his decision as the owls made their way to make their deliveries and could barely watch as Malfoy revealed his gift.

Somewhere in his embarrassingly large memory bank of the Slytherin, he could recall Malfoy regularly receiving presents from his parents, only because of how loudly he would brag to the other students. In particular, Harry remembered Malfoy receiving chocolates. And so Harry had done his best and bought a box of chocolate truffles from Honeydukes.

But Harry thought the effort might have been worth it as Malfoy opened the package and blinked in surprise, a small smile twitching at his lips as he lifted the lid and breathed in the rich smell of chocolate.

Huh. Harry blinked at the Slytherin, so unused to seeing such a soft expression on his pointy face. That must be why his stomach was suddenly churning and bubbling like a potion about to explode, he rationalised. After all, Harry had only just been thinking that anything was better than the blank, numb Malfoy that he’d become used to seeing.

Harry quickly averted his eyes as Malfoy took a bite of a truffle and closed his eyes in bliss, trying valiantly to ignore the insane urge to bolt from his seat and lick the chocolate from the blond’s lips. Feeling his face blush flame red, he turned his concentration back to his treacle tart, hoping that no one had noticed.

H/D/H/D

There was something addictive about pulling such a delicate smile from Malfoy’s harsh, thin mouth. When before, Harry had wanted to evoke any kind of reaction from Malfoy, now it was this one in particular he strived for. As much as he tried not to, Harry found himself observing Malfoy for any clues about what the Slytherin might like.

In Charms class, while he was supposed to be practicing turning vinegar into wine, Harry instead watched Malfoy. When Harry had seen him that summer, Malfoy had been all sharp, jutting bones, his pale skin accentuated by dark, bruised smudges under his eyes that spoke of months living in terror. Since being back at Hogwarts, the Slytherin had started to gain some of his previous weight and now looked less like a walking skeleton but there was still  _ something  _ missing.

And then it hit him. Flying! The most alive Harry had ever seen Malfoy was on the quidditch pitch, soaring through the air at a hundred miles per hour to race to the snitch. He hadn’t seen Malfoy flying at all this year, Harry realised, and an idea began to take form.

The next day at dinner, Harry grinned to himself as he slyly watched Malfoy unwrap a new pair of quidditch gloves. They were specifically designed for seekers, with flexible fingers that would enable the speedy capture of a sneaky snitch. He knew that Malfoy would recognise their quality and he wasn’t disappointed - Malfoy lifted out the gloves and his eyebrows shot up, running his hands reverently over the soft leather.

Later that evening, Harry couldn’t help the swooping, jittery feeling of excitement as he stood at the window of their common room, watching a familiar green blur soar gracefully above the quidditch pitch.

H/D/H/D

It was only the next day that Harry began to question his sanity, although in retrospect he should have picked up on it days ago. 

He was proud of the most recent gift he’d sent to Malfoy. It was a beautiful cashmere scarf in a deep, emerald green and he was certain that the Slytherin would like it. However, Harry found himself regretting his choice when, upon opening his parcel, Malfoy had immediately wrapped the scarf around his neck and buried his shy smile in the soft fabric. Regretting his choice because of how the sight churned his stomach and twisted his insides into knots.

Harry gulped. He couldn’t drag his eyes away from the way that the tips of Malfoy’s blond hair curled over the edge of the scarf, or the way the deep green looked against his pale skin, or the way the smile that Harry couldn’t seem to get enough of had morphed his cold grey eyes into shimmering silver.

What was wrong with him? He didn’t have this strange desire to make anyone else smile. It was just Malfoy. But why? Harry couldn’t deny that seeing that mouth, so accustomed to snarling and curling in malice, instead soft and smiling left a funny feeling in his stomach. He couldn’t figure out what it all meant, except for him needing to take a one-way journey to the Janus Thickey ward at St Mungo’s. 

But it didn’t matter. What mattered was that tomorrow was the final day to give Malfoy the best present. There was only one thing that Harry could think of to really bring back, well, not the  _ old  _ Malfoy, but maybe a  _ new _ Malfoy. One who Harry could get to know. 

H/D/H/D

Harry twisted his hands together as students gathered in the Great Hall on Christmas Eve. Not for the first time that day, he regretted his impulsive decision to send Malfoy that particular gift. Not that it had cost a lot of money. In fact, it hadn’t cost Harry anything at all. It was more the fact that as soon as Malfoy opened it, he would know immediately that it had been Harry sending the gifts all along, and Harry had no idea how the Slytherin would react.

Would he be confused? Angry? Anything was better than the cold, reclusive Malfoy, but Harry still had his hopes up that he might get a better reaction. That Malfoy would be pleased and maybe start to see Harry in a new light.

Harry jumped, nerves on edge, as the first of the owls flew into the hall. He heard exclamations of surprise and joy from the students around him as they opened presents, but he only had eyes for one person. He tensed as Malfoy ran a slender finger over the box, the red ribbon untangling as he revealed the contents. 

Harry knew the exact moment Malfoy opened the gift. He froze as if suspended in time, a blank expression carved onto his face. And then Malfoy looked up directly at him and Harry jolted at the anger and hurt in his eyes.

Before Harry could react, Malfoy jumped up from the bench and bolted out of the Great Hall, the present still clutched in his shaking hands. Ignoring the questions from Hermione and Ron, Harry rushed after the fleeing Slytherin, following the echoing sound of hurried footsteps.

He found Malfoy in the courtyard, icy wind blowing through his pale hair,head bowed.

“Malfoy?” Harry took a step outside cautiously.

Malfoy’s head twisted around and he glared. “Is this some kind of sick joke, Potter?” he spat. “What the fuck are you doing, giving this back to me?”

He dashed the package onto the floor scowled as his old hawthorn wand rolled out onto the stones.

“It’s yours,” Harry started simply, ignoring Malfoy’s scoff and internally cheering that he’d finally managed to get a reaction out of the Slytherin. “The Ministry was done with it and I thought you should have it back.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Saint Potter, always so honourable,” he mocked. “And what if I don’t want it back? What if other people don’t want me to have it back?”

Harry bristled. “It’s yours and anyone who says you shouldn’t have it can fuck right off! The Ministry cleared you of all charges so it’s no one’s business but your own.”

Malfoy blinked, clearly taken aback by Harry’s outburst. “And yours, apparently.” He raised a pale eyebrow pensively. “Why do you even care, Potter?”

Harry paused. He hadn’t meant to say that so passionately but he had been thinking about Malfoy for longer than he’d like to admit and had realised a few things recently. He took a deep breath and sucked up his courage.

“Because anyone with half a brain can see that you’re trying. You were just a kid, we all were and none of us should have been put in that situation. But it’s over now and we all deserve a chance to move on. Even you.” 

Malfoy stared at him in shock. A nervous laugh threatened to erupt from Harry as he realised that this was probably the longest conversation they’d ever had without one of them punching the other. Although there was still time, Harry thought as he tried to figure out what was going through Malfoy’s head. 

After a few more seconds of awkward silence, Harry coughed, now slightly embarrassed by his outburst. 

“Well, now that we’ve got that sorted, I’m just gonna,” he gestured clumsily to the doorway that led back into the hall, desperate to get away before Malfoy recovered from his shock and started laughing at him. He must think I’m such an idiot, Harry lamented, making to leave.

“...Wait.”

Harry froze and turned back to face Malfoy. The Slytherin was staring at him in puzzlement, as if trying to solve a particular fiendish potions equation. His grey eyes were roaming over Harry’s face, cautious and careful and looking for something. 

In response, Harry let his own gaze trail over Malfoy. His pale hair was pushed back from his face, curling softly around his ears, and his pointed chin was half hidden in the thick folds of the emerald green scarf that Harry had gifted him. As he studied Harry, he pulled one pink lip between his teeth and Harry’s eyes widened. A blush stained his cheeks a bright red and he tore his eyes away, hoping that Malfoy hadn’t noticed his reaction.

Malfoy’s mouth twitched. Harry gulped. “Err, Malfoy… what…”

The rest of his sentence dissolved into a surprised choking noise as Malfoy stepped closer to him. He stared into Harry’s face and Harry stared back, not daring to move. Malfoy stepped closer and closer again, sliding into Harry’s personal space and only stopping when mere inches separated them. He must have found something in Harry’s face for he nodded gently to himself. 

Malfoy leaned into him. Harry could feel Malfoy’s warm breath on his cheek. He could feel his stomach erupt into butterflies when Malfoy raised a hand to softly brush Harry’s hair back from his face. He could feel his heart thud madly in his chest when Malfoy finally,  _ finally _ , closed the space between them and pressed his lips against Harry’s.

Harry’s entire body sang. He clenched his hands into fists, terrified of moving and breaking whatever magic had ensnared them both. 

Before Harry really had a chance to process that  _ Draco Malfoy was kissing him _ , the Slytherin pulled back. He smirked with no real malice at Harry’s gobsmacked expression, instead seeming to find the Gryffindor’s stupefaction endearing, and tipped his head backwards as delicate snowflakes began to fall from the starry sky.

Malfoy looked back at Harry, his eyes shining in the starlight. “Merry Christmas, Potter.”

Harry felt a cautious smile tug at his lips. From inside the castle, he could hear laughter and the sound of carols being sung. The crisp December air in the courtyard brought with it the smells of pine needles and crackling fire. Around them, the falling snowflakes drifted dreamily, dusting Malfoy’s pale eyelashes and clinging to his pink cheeks. 

“Merry Christmas, Malfoy.”

He reached down to take one of Malfoy’s cold hands in his, and for the first time in a long while Harry thought that he was exactly where he was meant to be.


End file.
